Midshipwizard Halcyon Blithe

by James M. Ward

  Blithe looked all around, taking in the many blast-tubes of this new deck and the darkness made penetrable only by two open blast-tube ports, one on the port side and the other on the starboard side.

  "Why do you say that?" Halcyon asked.

  "That speech of Officer Wily's is at least twenty more minutes long. His words bring chills to a man's spine." Dart shivered. "That officer is talented; don't get me wrong. The problem is that he goes on forever about the Maleen and their many fleets and terrible armies. It half scares a person to death just to hear it all and I've heard it at least ten times. You, my friend, were saved by the captain himself, thus proving to me you've got some luck about you."

  "Saved? I have no idea what you're talking about. An experienced officer in the Arcanian navy should warn new recruits about the danger they might face." Blithe smiled to see his sea chest still magically floating behind. Sometimes, when he lost concentration on the air spell causing the chest to float, it could wander. That wouldn't have been good on his first day aboard, he thought.

  "You're right of course. Many say Commander Wily takes too much pleasure in describing the power of the Maleen," Dart said. "He goes on and on and on. Now, sink me if you can't respect a man who has had five dragonships shot out from under him in battle and has survived all of that without a scratch. Still and all, I know the captain doesn't like to hear that speech, I've heard him say so. He's remarked on it several times. That was the captain's voice on the quarterdeck ordering us squared away. Both of them are good officers, fair men. Enough of that, you're in the middle blast-tube deck. The marines crew all of these blast-tubes and string their hammocks up to sleep here. The younger midshipwizard wardroom is at the center of this deck, with the galley, the armory, and the pantry."

  The green walls were alive, Halcyon thought in wonder. He didn't know if he'd ever get used to that. He reached out and placed his palm on the wall, expecting it to be a lot warmer than it was. It felt cool to his touch. He showed his surprise in his wide-eyed expression to Dart. "It's cold; I expected the living flesh to be a lot warmer."

  "Sink me, man, don't you know anything?" Dart chided. "The dragonship's entire skin from the quarterdeck and forecastle to the orlop deck is the same temperature as the water it swims through. That's why we never get duty in the north where it's cold. The blood flowing through those walls cools the ship, unless we sail down south. Makes the hot nights better, I'll tell you that."

  The drumbeats of many feet boomed loud above them, and the trumpet blasts ordering the sails unfurled were clear even down where they were with a deck above their heads.

  "You'll learn to get used to the noise above and below you as you serve on the Sanguine," Surehand said. "Your duty assignment will be the mainsail rigging every night. I've got foresail duty in the same night shift. They'll put you on the mainsail till they know what you can handle." Surehand moved through the dimness and around the blast-tubes and sleeping men in swaying hammocks as if he'd done it a thousand times.

  It was all Blithe could do to keep up. He'd been on ships of his uncles and father when he was younger, but it was different now that he was serving on his own ship of the line. At least the decks seemed laid out the same on a dragonship as on a seventy-five-blast-tube ship of the line.

  Surehand opened the hatch to the midshipwizard wardroom and they heard crying and shouting from within.

  "The Articles, you idiot, are important. We live and die by the Articles. You don't know any of them, do you, boy?"

  A thin, balding man with beady eyes was screaming at the top of his lungs at a crying twelve-year-old midshipwizard. The thin man stood over the boy and barked his words out, clearly intimidating the young midshipwizard.

  Blithe took an instant dislike to the man.

  Some might have hesitated at interrupting the clash between the older man and the young boy, but not Dart. Bold as brass he stepped into the room and saluted. This allowed the young boy a brief respite from the verbal abuse he was taking.

  "Lieutenant Junior Grade Hackle," Dart said in a crisp military tone of voice. "I have the honor of introducing Midshipwizard Fifth Class Halcyon Blithe to you, sir."

  The lieutenant turned to glare at the pair. He barely lowered the volume of his voice, clearly irritated at being disturbed from his browbeating of the sobbing boy beside him. "Blithe, is it? You're a big un, aren't you? Hand me your papers, boy." Hackle barked the order, showing a clear disdain for the young officer in front of him, as evidenced by the sour look on his face.

  Blithe already had his orders in hand, saluting with his other hand.

  Hackle didn't return the salute and so Blithe and Surehand had to stay at attention, still saluting, until the lieutenant junior grade was good and ready to gesture back.

  Hackle was a head shorter than Blithe. There were wrinkles all over his face, and his flesh was pale, which struck Halcyon as odd considering that the tropical seas the ship must have commonly sailed in for the last year should have colored him up some as it did all the rest of the crew. All crews sailing the east and southern seas were darkened from the strong sun of those climates, making Halcyon wonder if this Hackle ever left the middle deck.

  Lieutenant Junior Hackle completely scanned Blithe's orders, taking several minutes. The two midshipwizards watched him stumble over several of the phrases in the orders as his lips moved over every word. Finally, he threw the orders on the wardroom table and glared at Dart and Halcyon. The boy beside Hackle managed to take control of himself and dried his tears on his uniform sleeve.

  "I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Hackle and the master of this wardroom. It is my duty assignment to turn midshipwizards like you into officers and gentlemen and it's a duty I take no pleasure in."

  He finally saluted back to them, allowing the pair to come to parade rest in front of him. "You will find me a fair man, just like the captain up above. On this deck you do what you're told, by me, do you understand?" He was trying to be commanding, but his weak, thin tone of voice held nothing of the power of First Officer Wily or the captain.

  "Yes, sir," Halcyon barked back through the bad breath of Hackle, as the man's face was inches away from Halcyon's own.

  Hackle started pacing back and forth in front of the two, much as Commander Wily had up on the deck. Comparing the two men brought a smile to Blithe's face. They weren't anything alike, but imagining the two standing together was highly amusing.

  "Your papers say you've just finished midshipwizard academy. Come into your magical powers late in life, did you, Midshipwizard Blithe?" Hackle sneered that question out.

  "Yes, sir, I did, sir."

  "Some say that makes you destined for great magical power... I care nothing about that." Hackle snapped his fingers in Blithe's face. "Maybe you noticed I don't have any magical powers."

  Halcyon ached to give him back several clever answers, but bit his tongue. It just wouldn't do to have an improper attitude about a superior officer displayed on Blithe's first day aboard.

  "In the king's navy most of its sailing men don't use magic. Keep that in mind, Blithe, and mind your betters," Hackle said as he whirled on Halcyon, trying to startle him.

  Halcyon didn't move an inch. Dart was unmoved as well.

  Hackle started up his pacing again. "We were just studying the Articles of War; Midshipwizard Fifth Class Tupper Haywhen and I were, that is. Mr. Haywhen wasn't doing very well. He gets three demerits for that. Blithe, on this ship all the midshipwizards must know all ninety-nine of His Majesty's Articles of War. Midshipwizard Fifth Class Blithe, what is the first Article of War?"

  Halcyon spent less than a heartbeat remembering the article, took a deep gulp of air, and said, " 'No officer, mariner, soldier, or other person of the fleet shall leave their assigned post during combat unless ordered by the captain of the ship or unless extenuating circumstances warrant the abandoning of the post. Such dereliction of duty will be reviewed by a board of court-martial. The penalty for such dereliction is death or other
punishment as the court-martial board shall find suitable,' sir."

  A sour expression filled Hackle's face. It was almost as if he hadn't wanted Blithe to know the article in question. Hackle's tone became brisk. "Exactly correct. Your bunk is on the lower port side over there. You have the evening shift. Surehand will bring you up to speed on your duties at the sails. I will be making sure you serve well belowdecks. I expect my orders to be carried out fully and with speed. Do you have any questions, Midshipwizard?"

  "No, sir," Halcyon replied.

  "Well, get your gear stowed and check out your duty station. That is all." Hackle left the room, and the seven other midship-wizards forced to stand at parade rest all pulled out wardroom chairs and slouched down into them with sighs of relief. Halcyon was the largest of all of them. All seven appeared to be twelve to thirteen years old.

  Dart made the introductions all around. "The twelve-year-olds on this side of the table are Tupper Haywhen, Jason Argo, Andorvan Mactunner, and Jock Woodson. The thirteen-year-olds are James Grunseth, Mark Forrest, and Ryan Murdock. All of you are midshipwizards fifth class right along with Halcyon Blithe here. Boys, this tall drink of water beside me is your new fifth-class midshipwizard, but you couldn't tell his rank judging from his size."

  That got a laugh out of all of them, even the recovered Tupper.

  Surehand started pacing back and forth and took on the same body stance that Hackle had just used. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Hackle says he's a fair man. Now, far be it from me, a midshipwizard third class, to disagree with a superior officer." Dart snapped his fingers in Blithe's face, in exact imitation of Hackle, and this got the boys roaring with laughter. "I'm thinking it would be a good idea if you all study the Articles of War a little bit more so that the good officer Hackle can't have the dubious enjoyment of getting under the skin of officers like Mr. Haywhen here. Do you all get my drift?" He snapped his fingers in Haywhen's face, getting everyone to laugh again.

  Suddenly, the wardroom became deathly quiet, with only Halcyon continuing to laugh. He looked around to see what had made the others stop. All were looking at the other side of the wardroom and its other hatch. The hatchway filled with a bald man with large eyes and a dark swarthy look about him—a senior chief petty officer, judging by his duty uniform and badges of rank. He had a commanding presence even though all of the boys outranked him.

  His voice boomed out into the wardroom.

  "Mr. Surehand, if you are through copying the ways of your superior officers, I need a private word with the new midshipwizard. Ship's business, you understand, or I wouldn't stop you in your efforts, such as they are."

  The petty officer's tone of voice made it clear that he didn't approve of Surehand's mimicking of a superior officer.

  The boys all scrambled out of their chairs and dashed for the other hatch.

  "Yes, Chief. Mr. Blithe, let me introduce Senior Chief Petty Officer Ashe Fallow. He's one of the men who make this ship run as well as it does. You will give your papers to him. He keeps all the papers of all the crew on board. When you receive new orders commissioning you to another ship, he will be giving you those orders. Carry on, Petty Officer." The last was said halfheartedly, as if it was difficult for Dart to give Fallow orders.

  Dart left with the others and closed the hatch behind him.

  Halcyon knew he wasn't to come to attention in front of this man, as Fallow ranked below him, but felt compelled to do just that. Blithe saw instantly that there was a controlled power in the man in front of him. The chief was bald, and his eyebrows were thick and dark; those features showed Halcyon that the chief wasn't a spellcaster.

  The chief petty officer strode into the room. He displayed confidence and a businesslike attitude in his face and body language. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

  "Permission granted, Mr. Fallow." Halcyon was surprised to see the petty officer reach out his hand in invitation. Blithe clasped it in his own firm grip.

  "That's a good handshake," Fallow said. "I would expect nothing less from a Blithe. For just this moment, let me speak frankly—man-to-man, so to speak." Ashe took his other hand and firmly gripped Blithe's arm as well. "I'm a Lankshire man born and raised, just like you. Your family has helped mine many times in the past, maybe for generations. I know it's a bit irregular for a ranker like myself to offer my hand. After this short meeting, you and I can be all proper from now on, but I wanted you to know I'm damn glad to see one of your da's sons serving in this fleet. I knew him well and served with him on several tours of duty. I was sorry to hear about his death."

  Ashe Fallow's words moved Blithe. "My dad proved himself an able officer. I hope to serve half as well. Is your mother Lady Fallow, owner of the Seven Trees Inn?"

  "No, that's my mam's sister. Our family lives a good ways from her at the south end of Lankshire County, but I know what your kin have done to support my aunt and our family. You can trust me to watch your back at need, boy. That's all I will say about that." He stepped back and saluted. "This is a good ship and you can learn a lot on her. Welcome aboard."

  Halcyon smiled and saluted his fellow countyman. "I appreciate your kind words, Petty Officer Fallow. You may also count on my support at need."

  Blithe happily moved into the bowels of his new ship.

  his majesty's articles of war: article iii

  The use of high magic is expressly forbidden on any of His Majesty's ships. If any officer, mariner, or soldier or other aforesaid uses high magic on board His Majesty's ship, every such person so offending, and being convicted thereof by the sentence of the court-martial, shall be punished with death, or such other punishment as the nature and degree of the offense shall deserve and the court-martial shall impose.

  Frantic action filled the midshipwizard wardroom as boys scrambled to get ready.

  Everyone bustled around belting on sabers and padded practice vests. Halcyon had just come off of four hours of sail duty, but he was just as energetic as the rest.

  This would be the first time he'd get the chance to meet the captain face-to-face.

  Dart came into the wardroom. As he saw the confusion inside, an amazed look spread over his face. He bellowed, "Come on, you slugabeds. Alvena and Jacom are already up there and all of you should be there as well. Get a move on!"

  Clothes, vests, and swords flew in all directions as the other midshipwizards streamed out of the wardroom past Dart. Halcyon was last in line and gave Dart a friendly grin.

  Dart smiled back. "It wouldn't do to have you late on your first day of swordplay. Get a move on, Midshipwizard."

  "Aye, aye." Halcyon moved as fast as the seven boys in front of him allowed him to.

  The dawn's light cast a pleasant glow on the full canvas above their heads. The ship was sailing east to the coast of Drusan to join the blockade of the Port of Ordune. To Blithe's way of thinking, all that mattered little on this bright Fireday morning and the occasion of his first blade session on the Sanguine. I've been practicing with swords since I was ten, he thought. Now I have to show others what I've learned. He hoped he was up to the challenge.

  Most of the midshipwizards wore the same thing: a gray work uniform with one badge to mark their rank as midshipwizards. Each also wore a padded practice vest with thick sleeves to give some protection to his arms from dull sword strokes. Midshipwizards usually wore a real blade sheathed at the hip, but dull and heavy practice swords were the order of the day for each practice session. Those racked practice weapons filled the port side of the forecastle.

  Blithe noted Midshipwizards Alvena Merand and Jacom Boatson dressed in white blade-practice uniforms, the same as the captain's. Halcyon had worn such fencing gear himself when practicing at home with his uncles and brothers, but hadn't thought to bring one of those outfits in his sea chest. He wasn't pleased at this lack on his part and thought he would spend some time at a tailor's at the first port of call.

  The other older midshipwizards were already at attention on the deck, and Halcyon vowed
to himself to be early to practice sessions from then on.

  Six bells rang out over the deck, and the captain turned smiling at his junior officers. He stood six feet tall, the perfect figure of a naval ship captain. He had broad shoulders and displayed an easy gait as he walked back and forth on the forecastle deck. Captain Olden revealed sunken eyes, high arched eyebrows, and a short, sharply trimmed black beard, in stark contrast to his long flowing white hair, worn in a military braid down his back.

  "We'll do a bit of review since we have a new midshipwizard in our group. Mr. Blithe, front and center." The captain spoke slowly, and his words carried well even in the brisk salty wind they all felt blowing over the deck.

  Halcyon quick-stepped up to the captain and saluted. The captain just as quickly saluted back.

  "I've already received good reports from Lieutenant Durand about you and your work, Mr. Blithe. Fellow officers, you will all be interested to know that Mr. Blithe here is a rope speaker. Rope speaking is a rare skill, the ship and crew are lucky to have such a crew member aboard. Mr. Durand reported there were several fraying lengths of rigging which revealed themselves to your talent. Keep it up, Midshipwizard Blithe. May I?"

  The captain held out his hand, and his eyes looked on the sword at Blithe's hip.

  Halcyon drew his weapon and handed it hilt-first to his captain. He openly smiled at the pleasant attention he was getting.

  Taking it, Olden inspected the blade and then went through several blurringly fast maneuvers with the weapon, testing its balance.

  "It's a good Lankshire blade." He lunged with Blithe's saber and retreated to his on-guard position. "One can tell quality by the blurring of the thousand folds of the metal in the blade's making. There are few weaponsmiths more talented than those found in Lankshire." His arm moved in maneuvers almost too quick to follow as he went through all the defensive positions of the standard naval saber while talking to Blithe. "I had the pleasure of serving with several of your uncles. I was sorry to hear of the death of your father in the battle of Ordune. But men die in the king's service and I'm sure you are justly proud of his notable career."